


Untitled for now

by The_Poet_FnyM



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, But not really he's mostly human but not really that either, F/M, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Mutant Powers, Mutant!Dean, Mutants, Protective!Cas, alternative universe, creature!cas, magical powers, protective!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Poet_FnyM/pseuds/The_Poet_FnyM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Those dreams you have, they are not dreams, they are memories. You wanted to forget. You wanted a normal life. I gave that to you. There's nothing I would never do for you. You're it for me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me during a feverish sleep and I couldn't get it out my head! I will just put this here and someday when I'm better, maybe I'm gonna post some kind of first chapter. We will have to wait and see, I'm afraid. I'm in no way a fiction writer. Just dreamt the plot of some urban fantasy destiel au when sick. Like I said we have to wait and see. 
> 
> There will be some mutant!dean and some kind of other/creature!cas! 
> 
> I just need to find inspiration to write, that's all. 
> 
> So long!

"Those dreams you have,they are not dreams, they are memories. You wanted to forget. You wanted a normal life. I gave that to you. There's nothing I would never do for you. You're it for me."


	2. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't sleep. He has nightmares. He never remembers them though, not after he wakes up. Of course, Chelsea wonders why he's so tired in the mornings. He knows that she does. She does worry, a lot, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just felt compelled to post the beginning, at least, of this monster.
> 
> To be upfront with it, I don't know when or how often I will write things on this, like I said before I'm in no way a fiction writer. I find writing other things, thats not poetry, quite hard but this idea I had didn't go away so here I am trying to write it all out, into actually words...
> 
> This brings me to another thing. English is not my first language and I'm afraid this work will be full of very bad grammatical errors, I'm sorry about that. 
> 
> I've written out this poorly beginning, it did sound way better in my head but like I said I suck at writing if it's not poetry...
> 
> It's not abandoned, I'm just have a really hard time writing my imagination down on paper. I have the outline of it written down in my head... I know where it's heading but it's another thing to actually write down these thoughts on paper...
> 
> But I will update with the rest of this chapter when I've got the time. It will soon be busy at work again but will really try to do this story and my idea justice, the best I can anyway...
> 
> So live long and prosper (in the meanwhile) :)

Let's say there is a city somewhere. No, wait maybe it's more like one of those small picturesque towns that actually  exist. It doesn't really matters anyway.

Picture a town, a quite small and unremarkable town. Are you doing that? Right, let's picture a street in this town. A street situated in a quite quiet and rather nice neighborhood. On this street there's a house. One of those old and cozy houses, where everything is made out of wood.

 

The couple who lives in the house, is at the moment fast asleep, because you see it's the middle of the night and the moon shines and lights up the dark streets of the small quiet town.

If  we were to take a sneak peak into the bedroom of the house of the couple, we would see a king size bed with two unconscious bodies in it.    A fair haired woman and a more dirty blond haired man. The woman would be sleeping soundly with a small smile on her lips whereas the man would be tossing and turning sleeping quite restlessly. The man would be whimpering and making soft anxious noises in his sleep;

' _Please...Please...I have to...I need to...'_.

 

<//>

 

 


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some dream more than others. Dean dreams things he can't really remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey, I haven't been updating this since August. Sorry! I haven't had the time for it really. But now I'm finding myself with another fever so - downtime. I thought I could post another chapter. And once again bear with me. I am no fiction writer and English isn't my first language.

_...Cas...Castiel..._

 

 

_He can't move. No, that's not it. It's more like someone is holding him back. Yes. Two pair of hands holing him back. 'There's nothing you can do, Dean...'_

 

_No, no, no ,no. He sees Cas. He sees him. And that...that abomination of an earth troll. I'ts big.  It's  enormous... and Cas looks like a midget beside it. He's just a boy. A teenager. Just like Dean._

_God, what he_ _hates_   _magic beings._

  
_He tries to escape his restraints, he has to go to Cas. He knows he's the only one who can help him now... He can feel the power starting to simmer beneath his skin. He just have to...._

 

_'No Dean, it's no use. He's too far away. It's useless...'_

_No, no, no. If anyone can do anything it's him. It's Cas. He have to._

_'Let go of me', he snarls._

_'Hey!, someone else far ahead of them shouting suddenly. 'Something is going down over there'._

_Dean turns around and sees something unbelievable..._

_< //>_

The man called Dean wakes up. His heart is racing. He's sweaty all over. He shivers. His hands are fisted hard. He relaxes and let go of the breath he doesn't realized he was actually holding. Another night. Another dream. Another fucking dream he can't remember. Just a sense of despair and perhaps of lost.

Beside him in the bed Chelsea is still sleeping. That's perhaps for the best. He can't have her waking up every time he does. He can't. He knows she wonders, quietly. But she never asks anything.

Dean gets up, what else can he do. He can't go back to sleep. He never can. The dreams irk him the wrong way and he can never find the peace to go back to sleep after them.

He gets up, wanders to the kitchen. Take a glass from one of the cupboards and holding it under the faucet. He drinks serveral glasses of water. He feels how the water running through and cleanses out the last snippets of the dream. He craves something stronger, but Chelsea would find  that out easier and he doesn't want to risk that. He really doesn't want her to worry.

He walks in to his hobby room. It's just a working bench and a chair so far. A mini fridge in the corner and an old lamp he and Chelsea found in a dumpster once - perfectly working, _God what people throws away_.

He sits down by his working bench and starts working with his creations. It is here, by the bench, with his stuff, he can find his peace. He works for hours with no end. It really helps him relax, to create stuff with his hands and just letting his mind go.

 


End file.
